


this is everything that i believe

by timekept



Category: McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF, Polygon RPF
Genre: Idk what else to tag rip, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Songfic, bear with me and my poor writing, i dunno uh, im just trying to get back in the saddle, its rough ok, looking for meaning i guess, maybe a little internalized homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timekept/pseuds/timekept
Summary: Everyone I've met is afraid of somethingIt burns too bright, but hurts for nothingWe learn too young to love and let it goBut to me, this is everything that I believeI've been scared, alone, and lost, and torn apartBut here we go, when everyone was losing hopeI guess we're the kids that never let it go





	this is everything that i believe

**Author's Note:**

> a songfic to "Invincible Summer" by Dangerkids, which I really enjoy and has been helping me deal with the past week or so. I'm still recovering and getting back into the groove of writing has been hard, so bear with me, please <3

   Pat lay awake in his bed, brow furrowed in thought. His half-open window let the lukewarm breeze spiral through his room; the last breaths of a dying summer. Carried in were the distant sounds of rubber on pavement, the muffled song of an ambulance siren, snippets of drunken conversation. Pat sighed. His alarm clock blinked  _"_ _ **2:00 am** "_  at him and he turned away, focusing his gaze on the slowly rotating ceiling fan above him. As often happened this late at night, Pat's thoughts turned, stumbling over themselves, to Polygon. To work. To _Griffin._

> _The time is 2 AM  
>  And I'm staring at the ceiling fan  
>  Wondering where you are right now_

 

   Back when he'd begun at Polygon, Pat had been ecstatic, even doing grunt work; nameless editing, uncredited uploading, anything. They could have asked him to scrub the floors and he would have tripped over his own feet to do it. As time had worn on, it had only gotten better. He never expected to work with...one of the, if not just **_the_** , funniest people in gaming and gaming journalism. Griffin took Pat's breath away. He wasn't _just_ a nuclear power plant of comedic energy, someone capable of generating a punchline from nothing--he was kind, genuine, supportive. He was a glowing example of Good Things, and Pat couldn't get over the fact that they weren't just coworkers but _friends._ Griffin had the pull of a yellow dwarf and his light and warmth were as life-sustaining as sunlight; Pat couldn't get enough. And yet Pat was here in New York City, laying alone in the dark and Griffin was a 27 hour, 1743 mile-long drive away in Austin, Texas and Pat could feel the distance like fishhooks in his skin. Every moment away felt somehow wasted and as the months wore on, Pat wondered how long he could take it, whether he'd stay in this safe, distant orbit of Griffin, act on nothing, let time pass him by. The thought made Pat's head ache.

> _And I'm so tired of being here  
>  Will I waste away another year?  
>  This town will find a way to wear you out_

 

   Pat was exhausted, tired in a way that weighed heavier on his heart than his eyelids. The quiet noise of the city continuing to move outside only served to further his sense of isolation; he found himself reaching for his phone without really knowing his own intentions. His screen illuminating blinded him for a moment, the sharp blue light making him hiss through his teeth. Eyes squinted all but shut, he managed to click down his brightness and found himself blinking at Griffin's name in his messaging center. _Eh, fuck it._

 **pat:** i know you're probably asleep where you are but i can't stop thinking |  
**pat:** i guess everyone's afraid of something but |  
**pat:** it feels like life hinges on acting like it's nothing? because if you never speak up you can't get hurt |  
**pat:** we just learn so young to let go of love, especially if it doesn't "conform" to what love is "meant" to be or look like |

Pat hadn't thought about what he wanted to say, hadn't planned on spilling the concerns and insecurities he kept tucked so tightly to himself that even he'd half-forgotten them, but in the lonely liminal space of his apartment at two in the morning, things began to slip. His fears quietly unlatched their cages in his chest and poured themselves into the text that flowed from his fingertips.

 **pat:** like you watch all the movies as a kid and it's like, oh, you know, boy-meets-girl, boy and girl fall in love, boy and girl live happily ever after |  
**pat:** and you sort of file that away as 'what love looks like' |  
**pat:** and then when you feel it but it doesnt work with that image you try and let go of it but |  
**pat:** i don't know, it feels like i've been letting go of too much of myself, griff | 

> _'Cause everyone I've met is afraid of something_  
>  _It burns too bright, but hurts for nothing_  
>  _We learn too young to love and let it go_

 

   Pat startles when he sees the [...] pop-up, indicating that Griffin hasn't only read his messages, but is typing a reply. Immediately the vulnerability that he'd felt able to expose recoiled and his mouth went dry, uneasiness settling heavily in his stomach. Pat felt like he was awaiting a verdict, a sentencing, a final judgement.

 **griffo:** nah i dunno i can't sleep tonight either,, must be something in the air |  
**griffo:** fr fr though pat like? i think i follow |  
**griffo:** I felt so scared and fragmented and isolated as a kid, like, i grew up in WV u know? |  
**griffo:** but i guess, and like...this is everything i believe,, you gotta hold onto hope and hold onto yourself |

> _But to me, this is everything that I believe_  
>  _I've been scared, alone, and lost, and torn apart_  
>  _But here we go, when everyone was losing hope_  
>  _I guess we're the kids that never let it go_

 

  Pat blinked at the messages on his phone, his stomach beginning to settle, even as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Still, he had to be sure he understood what Griffin was saying, had to be sure there hadn't been something lost in translation. The words were hard to find.

 **pat:** ~~so you?? you're gay too?~~ | _(No, too blunt.)_  
**pat:** ~~it was rough growing up in WV because..?~~ | _(No, weird tone..and felt leading.)  
_**pat:**  Yeah i guess it was really like... lonely growing up for me. Still sometimes is. being bi and all | _(Good enough; acted as an open invitation.)_

He'd already started bouncing his leg and chewing anxiously on his thumbnail when Griffin's next message came in;

 **griffo:**  I feel you my dude. do you wanna come down to austin? sorry if thats weird but like....we're friends, right |  
**griffo:** friends fuckin visit each other and like...care about each other. come down and visit? I'll buy your ticket |

Pat stared, dumbfounded, at his phone, before looking slowly around, taking in the sight of his small apartment bedroom. It felt empty and hollow even with its diminutive size, and Pat imagined packing up the clothes strewn across the floor, shoving them into the suitcase in the corner of his closet, making an escape--however brief--to the heat of Texas, the city lights of Austin, the gentle comfort and kindly humor of a friend...of _Griffin._

 **pat:** for real? you sure? |  
**griffo:** your departure time is tomorrow at 2:15pm. Gate A15 |  
**griffo:** tracking id: 2 304 364 2096 4587 1 on Delta Airlines |  
**griffo:**  cant wait to see you, dude |


End file.
